The air in the plantation-style bedroom was thick with the scent of leather and sweat. You stood over me, your lace corset straining against your tits, a riding crop tapping against your thigh. "Such a bad boy," you purred, your voice a velvet whip. "You need to be reminded of your place, don't you?"

I was on my knees, my black skin gleaming under the low light, my thick dick already hard and straining against my trousers. You circled me, the heel of your boot clicking on the hardwood. "You want me to say it, don't you? You want mommy to call you her nigger." It wasn't a question.

You stopped behind me. I heard the whisper of the crop through the air before the sharp *CRACK* landed on my ass cheek. Fire bloomed through the thin fabric. "Yes, Mommy," I groaned, my voice ragged.

"Louder."

"YES, MOMMY!"

Another crack, this one on my shoulder. "You belong to me. This muscle, this skin, this *cock*." Your hand snaked around, your fingers roughly palming the bulge in my pants. I could feel your nails through the material. "You just want to fuck nigger dick, and you own mine," I panted, repeating the filthy truth you'd carved into my soul.

"That's right." You unbuttoned my pants with ruthless efficiency. My dick sprang free, a thick, dark length of meat, already leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your pale fingers around it, squeezing the base. "Mine to use. Mine to punish."

You pushed me forward onto the bed, my face in the covers